


I Wore The Crown, I Sold The Lie

by nachaelsquared



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anger, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frustration, Hot Space Era, Hotel Sex, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Interviews, Kissing, M/M, Press and Tabloids, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachaelsquared/pseuds/nachaelsquared
Summary: Roger needs some emotional support after a bad question at a press conference sets him off but gets something more from his boyfriend John in the end.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	I Wore The Crown, I Sold The Lie

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies if the smut isn't that great...I'm not super proud of it but I really liked my idea for this one-shot so I stuck through with it. 
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, the title is from the lyrics to "Some Kind Of Disaster" by All Time Low.

There weren't many things in his life that Roger hated more than press conferences. 

Reporters from all over that acted as if they were your best friend, dying to get a chance at asking some convoluted question about the music that was usually just a poorly veiled attempt at gaining any sliver of dirt they could turn into a headline. The continuous interchanging of exploding noise followed by the monotonous droning of a question he gladly allowed one of the other members to answer had practically lulled his brain into auto-pilot, save for the slowly dwindling cigarette in his mouth that brought him back to reality whenever he forgot to tap off the ashes. 

“Mr. Taylor!”

The stern voice accompanied by wide-eyed looks from the other three musicians staring down the long table at him told Roger that he must’ve been more out of it than he realised, and the relatively young looking journalist had been impatiently waiting to ask their question. He quickly turned his head towards the woman, blinking the apathy away from his eyes despite the fact nobody could tell behind the dark tint of his sunglasses. The blonde raised his eyebrows in a silent confirmation he was actually listening now, inhaling a long drag of his cigarette as the reporter cleared her throat. 

“One of your songs on the new album is called ‘Calling All Girls’ and you have quite the reputation in regards to women, but the media hasn’t seen you out and about with anyone recently. Care to comment?”

The inquiry made the room fall silent and Roger was never more grateful for his trusty shades that shielded the panic in his expression when all eyes seemed to fall on him in anticipation of the answer. He prayed the heat rising to his cheeks wouldn’t be that noticeable when the rest of the band anxiously looked around the room, knowing there was an obvious answer none of them could say. 

If only the hounds labeled as reporters could see the way John’s hand comfortingly came to rest on Roger’s knee behind the wooden front of the wide desk - the reasoning behind the incredibly invasive question would’ve been crystal clear. Everyone in the band and their crew knew the youngest two had been coupled up for months now, and had kept the secret from the public fairly successfully in fear of ruining their lofty careers and reputations. 

“What kind of question is that?” Roger snarled as he made a show of plucking the cigarette from his lips, letting his initial anger get the best of him. “Have you even listened to the bloody thing?” 

The gentle squeeze of John’s hand did nothing to quell his furious mood, but reminded him to cut his response off now, sooner than later, and instead scowl at the slight frown settled on the young woman’s face. 

“I think what Roger meant to say is that your question doesn’t really have anything to do with the album, so we’ll have to move on to somebody else,” Brian’s collected tone cut through the still silent room, Freddie and John visibly relaxing when voices filled the room again with their insistent need to gather information about them. 

It was apparent to his friends that his anger did nothing except stew within him for the entire rest of the event, refusing to chime in on any other questions and making his face rigid with the willpower needed to not draw any more negative attention to the situation. The rest of the room had apparently moved on, reporters chattering amongst themselves when the conference was over and they ogled the band stalk out of the room, still watching them with rapt gazes in the slim hopes of something happening in the last few split seconds. 

Nobody considered saying anything to Roger - knowing he was ticking time bomb ready to be set off by any fool who attempted to challenge his foul mood. Even the safe seclusion of a car separate from both Brian and Freddie had John scared to dare a glance his partner’s way, a small and sad smile twitching at his lips to see the blonde sagging against the seat and staring out of the window at the new but always the same as before view of an American city skyline passing by. The younger man decided it was best to stay quiet and mirrored Roger’s actions, resting his head against the headrest and letting his eyes slip shut in the silence of the car. It almost made him jump to feel a warm hand suddenly wrap around his, and hoped the drummer didn’t notice the quickening of his pulse when a calloused finger ran over the back of his hand. 

Their simple embrace lasted until the car crawled to a stop in front of another cookie-cutter hotel not uncommon to another tour of a foreign country. John internally frowned when Roger’s hand quickly left his, the blonde exiting the car as fast as possible to sulk into the building with haste so as to avoid any further interactions with the public for the day. 

John couldn’t blame him though, sure the press conference could’ve gone smoother but he wasn’t the one who got put on the spot unknowingly about their sexuality. It had been a struggle for both of them to actually get together due to the taboo and societal hushed nature of not being straight, and Roger had always been protective about his image so doubling down on getting with his male bandmate often took a toll on his emotions more than he let on. 

The brunette sighed as he strode down the lengthy hallway minutes after his boyfriend, fiddling with the plastic punch card in his pocket for his own room that would ultimately be of no use given to him upon arrival and preparing himself for the likely destroyed state of Roger’s hotel room brought about by his lack of ability to control his aggression at times. 

His soft knock to Roger’s door was immediately answered, the blonde opening the door as he stared down at the floor to let his partner in. John huffed as he set his bag down and watched the drummer slouch himself right in the middle of the bed to stare up at the ceiling, walking over to the large window in an attempt to remember what city they were in.

“Why do you do it?” Roger’s soft voice filled the air, the defeat and anger from the day’s events clear in his tone.

“Do what?” John asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder. 

“Stay with me.”

The depressed statement made John frown, fully turning to see the blonde still looking up and fiddling mindlessly with his rarely removed sunglasses. “What are you on about?” The bassist replied, moving to sit himself on the corner of the bed. 

“Don’t you get sick of it?”

“Sick of what?” 

John wasn’t surprised when Roger sprang up to prop himself up on his elbows, clearly annoyed at his boyfriend’s child-like repetition of his questions. “Having to hide everything!” The drummer exclaimed, tossing his glasses to the side to be forgotten on the floor and setting his jaw before looking back up at John in wait of an acknowledgment of his statement. 

“Well, yeah it definitely isn’t the best situation, but…” John trailed off, stopping when the blonde raised his eyebrows at him. 

“But?” 

“But I think it’s worth it,” John whispered, casting his gaze down to the pristine bedspread. 

“Worth it? So you like having to hide that we’re together,” Roger scoffed.

“That’s not at all what I said,” John defended, the anger at the drummer’s interpretation of words showing in his increase in volume. “Don’t turn your sour mood on me, Rog, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

The blonde couldn’t think of a reasonable response, the nagging idea of diffusing a potential fight with John pushing through the blinding frustration still raging in his mind. He rubbed his eyes in frustration when the bassist turned his back towards him, the younger of the two angrily sighing as he stared out of the window to witness the orange hue of the sky as the sun began to set. 

“It’s worth it because I love you,” John quietly continued, speaking towards the eerie emptiness of the large room. He didn’t even have time to finish his explanation before he felt the bed dip behind him and a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, the familiar blonde mane of hair tickling his cheek when Roger rested his head against his shoulder. 

“I love you too,” Roger mumbled, the sound muffled in the fabric of John’s shirt and the brunette couldn’t help the small smile that sprawled across his face when his partner pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

“You’re wonderful at showing it,” John laughed, bringing his own hands up to rest on top of Roger’s that had settled around his stomach. 

“Hey, I do try sometimes!” Roger grinned, happy to let John’s steadfast patience in him calm him down some for the first time since the dreaded conference. 

“I know...but you’re much better at letting your temper get the best of you.”

“But how can you not let those slimy reporters get to you?” Roger asked, the smallness of his voice radiating the timidness and insecurity he didn’t let most people know existed in his tough personality. “Doesn’t it bug you the way they try to make a story out of any personal detail they think they know about our lives?”

“It does,” John sighed, shifting away from Roger’s hold and standing from the bed. The blonde had little time to complain before his partner stood in front of him, bending down to cup the older man’s cheeks in his hands and making the latter feel incredibly small in the hold. “But I guess after all these years I’ve just become immune to it. And why would I focus on what some arsehole critic thinks about my relationship status when I know I get to wake up next to the man of my dreams every morning?” 

“You’re such a sap,” Roger smiled, relaxing into the gentle grip of John’s hands around his face. 

“You’d be lost without my sentimentalism,” John smiled back, closing the short distance between them and pressing a quick kiss to the blonde’s lip. 

“You’re probably right,” Roger laughed, making John crack a shy smile as he traced a thumb over the drummer’s cheek. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”

“That’s okay, I’m not mad...I understand why you’re upset,” John reassured, giving the older man a sad, lop-sided quirk of his lip. “You wouldn’t be the Roger I know if you didn’t have temper tantrums over anything, but remember that I’m not the enemy here.”

“They are not tantrums!” Roger gasped with a small giggle, lifting his hands up to pull John down to straddle his lap and softly pinch his sides. 

“Oh, really?” John managed to smirk through his breathy laughs at Roger’s childish reaction that really caused him no pain. 

“I just have strong opinions!” Roger continued in resisting the obvious truth his partner spoke. “Like how crazy your hair looks like this.” The drummer laughed, running the curly strands of John’s new hairstyle through his fingers to emphasize his point and playfully crying out when the bassist pushed his shoulder, forcing him to fall back against the mattress once again. 

A comfortable quietness fell about the room, the faint sound of cars passing by below providing soothing background noise as John stayed perched on Roger’s lap and toyed with the worn buttons of the older man’s shirt. “So are you done sulking now?” John whispered, slyly looking down at his partner.

“Hmm...I suppose so,” Roger sighed, sliding his hands up to rest on John’s thighs. “Although, I think there’s something else you could do to make me feel better.”

“Is that so? I think I have to go worry about my hair, though,” John sarcastically replied, his false attempt at getting up stopped by Roger tightening his grip on his hips as they laughed in unison. The empty threat was completely forgotten when the younger of the couple leant down to press their lips together again, the kiss now filled with a certain urgency due to the suggestive situation.

John couldn’t help but smile against the other pair of lips when a small whine left Roger’s throat, the simple, calculated roll of the bassist’s hips against his clearly affecting him. “Shit,” John groaned, sitting back up and resting his hands on the blonde’s chest. “Don’t we have to leave for another interview soon?”

“We can be quick,” Roger smirked, nudging the brunette’s hips to change their positions and loom over the other man. John didn’t verbally answer the retort, instead opting to pull his partner down to reconnect their lips and trail a hand down to Roger’s zipper in an unsuccessful attempt to open the tight trousers. 

The blonde slipped himself away from the embrace and felt his pace quicken to hear the hitch in John’s breath when he settled between the latter’s legs, letting his steady hands ghost over the bassist’s crotch. The two made heated eye contact when Roger leisurely moved to pull the zipper down, wickedly smiling when he knowingly let the weight of his hand press down more than necessary. 

John thickly swallowed when light fingers traced over the waistband of his pants, embarrassed at how desperate he already must have seemed as his hips failed to keep still at the faint contact. He willingly lifted his hips when the blonde impatiently tugged at the clothing, holding back a sigh when his straining cock was exposed and a strong hand immediately wrapped around him. “Y-you don’t have to-” John stuttered out, stopping with a sharp gasp when Roger darted his tongue out to gingerly lick up his length. 

Roger shushed the protest, taking John into his mouth and internally swooning at the quiet moan his partner failed to suppress. As much as he would’ve loved to take his time and make the younger bassist beg for it, he started a quick pace of bobbing his head and mentally cursing their tight interview schedule interfering with their quick rendezvous. The increasingly loud sounds falling from John’s lips made his head spin with arousal and as if on cue with his feelings, the comforting touch of hands threading into his hair brought his mind back to reality and made his eyes flutter shut. 

“Roger,” John sighed, tightening his hands in his partner’s hair and relaxing into the unforgiving hold the drummer had on his hip, knowing there would certainly be fingertip-shaped bruises marking his skin the next day. He pouted when Roger suddenly lifted his head, letting his hand take over once again, and raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s evil smirk.

“Close?” Roger softly asked, his voice more hoarse than normal and making the brunette wish he’d get back to what he was previously doing. But John eagerly nodded nonetheless, letting out a small huff when Roger’s hand on his cock completely stopped moving. “Perfect, we don’t have much time left.”

John frowned when the blonde sat up and removed his hands, and was about to complain about the rude gesture when his mind went blank at the sight of Roger standing next to the bed and hastily removing the skin-tight clothes adorning his lower half. His cock twitched when Roger’s own length sprung free from his clothes and the drummer quickly returned to his original position, leaning down to forget about their upcoming responsibilities for a few moments in favor of connecting their lips in a gentle kiss. 

The sweet moment was eventually disrupted by Roger accidentally shifting against John, the brief contact of their groins making the younger of the two unabashedly moan into the kiss. Roger pulled back with a sly smile that was interrupted by a scoff when John pinched his backside, rolling his hips again as a form of payback. “You’re such a brat,” John growled, pulling his partner back down by grabbing his chin and roughly crashing their lips together again. 

“I told you we’d have to be quick,” Roger spoke against John’s lips between kisses, quietly whining a harsh bite was delivered to his bottom lip. His legs trembled in anticipation when the hand on his chin traveled up to slide two fingers between his now swollen lips, staring down into John’s eyes as he closed his mouth around the intrusion. The familiar weight against his tongue made his head cloudy, wishing he’d stayed between John’s legs instead of playing his little game but deliberately swirling his tongue around the digits nevertheless. The disappointment in his expression when the fingers left his mouth was apparent to his partner, making John smile at the innate reaction.

“Time’s ticking,” John mocked Roger’s earlier phrases, unceremoniously sliding a slender finger into Roger’s entrance. It made the already brewing orgasm revitalize inside of him when Roger’s eyes squeezed shut and his calloused hand tightly gripped onto the younger man’s shoulder with a low moan. John found it difficult to stretch his boyfriend open in what felt like a routine fashion with no passion behind it due to the rushed timeframe, but relished in the way the blonde squirmed in his lap when a second and third finger entered his body. It felt all too soon when he could feel Roger relax against him, the telltale sign he was ready despite John’s hopes to draw out the moment as long as possible. 

Roger seemed to agree with John’s thoughts, whining when the hand left him to clench around nothing, but still impatiently sat up to line himself up with John’s cock. The bassist’s hips jerked when his partner reached down to hastily spread the adequate precum along his length, obviously too impatient to interrupt the flow by getting up to grab actual lube. They both loudly moaned when Roger finally sat himself down on John’s cock, only stopping once their hips sat flush and shutting his eyes again. He could feel how tense his partner’s muscles were as he held back his previously denied orgasm, cruelly rolling his hips and biting his lip when strong hands powerfully gripped his thighs. 

High-pitched moans continuously were punched out of the drummer once he started moving, the harsh drag of John’s cock against his walls making the pleasure heavily bordering into painful territory coursing through his veins driving him mad with arousal. The complementing low groans from the man below him only increased his vigor, ignoring the sting of his backside form hitting John’s hip in favor of chasing his release. 

He opened his eyes to see John already smiling up at him, a faint blush rising to his cheeks getting hidden in the flush already spread across his skin at his lover’s facial expression. The simple gesture of Roger prying one of the hands off his leg to encase in his own as he continued bouncing made John’s heart melt - the small hold reaffirming everything he adored about the man in his lap and their unconventional relationship. 

It wasn’t long before John knew he was close, squeezing Roger’s hand in a silent warning and lewdly moaning when the blonde only moved impossibly faster in response. He pulled Roger’s face down once again to press their lips together, harshly breathing into the older man’s mouth as his release finally hit him - arching his back against the mattress while he filled the blonde above him. It had a domino effect on Roger, John’s other hand leaving his leg to wrap around his cock and only having to stroke him a few times before the drummer came with a loud moan, the combined feelings making him dizzy with satisfaction. 

A sharp knock against the door burst their bubble of post-orgasm haze, Roger groaning against John’s still-clothed chest when their manager’s familiar voice reminded them of another predetermined obligational interview that came along with releasing new albums. “Fuck,” Roger muttered, shakily sitting up and wincing when John’s soft cock slipped from his body. He sighed as he rummaged through his suitcase across the room, unbuttoning his shirt and carelessly throwing it behind him. “I don’t even have any time to clean up.”

“Hopefully the journalists won’t notice,” John smirked, rolling off of the bed and zipping his trousers back up before mirroring Roger’s actions of removing his shirt.

The blonde scoffed when a sharp smack was delivered to his still bare backside as he walked past the brunette to reach the bathroom, turning his head to see the knowing smile on his partner’s face. “Twat.” 

John simply laughed at the insult, buttoning up a fresh shirt that wasn’t soiled with the clear evidence Roger left behind on his previous clothes and leaning against the door as he waited for his boyfriend to finish his hasty clean-up. 

“Love you,” John grinned, surveying Roger’s new outfit as he stepped out of the bathroom and placing a kiss against his cheek when he reached the door. 

“Love you too,” Roger replied, rolling his eyes at John’s obvious interest in his mostly unbuttoned top and placing his trusty pair of sunglasses back on his face. 

They coincidentally saw Brian exiting the room next to them at almost the exact same time, the pair travelling the short distance to catch up with the guitarist. “Hey Brian,” John greeted, smiling up at his bandmate as the trio walked down the hallway together. 

“Hi,” Brian replied, not daring to look back at his friend as a deep blush crept onto his cheeks. They walked in silence for only a few seconds before the tallest of them stopped, quickly turning on his heel. “I think I left something in my room, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” The couple had no time to reply before Brian was already making long strides back down the hall, his head hung low and hands buried in his pockets. 

“What was that all about?” John asked, turning his head towards his boyfriend while slowly continuing their walk down the hall. 

“You didn’t see how red his cheeks were?” Roger laughed, the confusion on John’s face making the situation even more hilarious to him. “Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?” John innocently asked back, still not connecting the dots.

“His room is right next to ours...and we weren’t exactly quiet in there.”

“Oh... _ oh _ !”

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Brian...
> 
> As usual, please let me know what you think if you've got the time to leave a comment! :)


End file.
